Her Werewolf Harem

by Savannah Skye

  "I'm not trying to prove your innocence," I corrected him. "I'm just following where the evidence leads."

  "Which is what we asked you to do and you said no."

  "I don't like being coerced into things."

  Tanner nodded. "I just thought it was because we were good in bed."

  "Well, obviously that was part of it."

  "Whatever the reason; thank you. We are grateful."

  The tunnel ended with an aluminum ladder propped against the wall leading up to a panel in the roof.

  "Okay," I patted the ladder, "that's proof that we are definitely not the first people down here since 1917. After you."

  Tanner climbed up and put his shoulder to the wood panel, which swung upwards.

  "Heavier than it looks," he muttered as he squinted against the sunlight that filtered through. The panel fell heavily to the ground with a thump - it was backed with stone so it looked like a paving slab.

  "Where the hell are we?" asked Tanner as he hauled me out of the hole to join him.

  I breathed out in suppressed excitement. "I'll tell you where we're not - Kenai territory. This is No Man's Land. The assassin was on his way home..."

  "To another pack's territory," Tanner finished the thought.

  I nodded.

  Perhaps it wasn't cast iron proof yet, but the evidence was adding up; the sons of Kenai King were not responsible for the assassination attempt.

  Chapter 10

  My first instinct was to go to Kenai King, tell him what I had learned and get the guys off the hook, and that was probably what Tanner, Gray and Hudson would have wanted me to do. But on the walk back through the tunnel, I began to think about things. If King believed, as I did, that one of the other packs was responsible, then that made this an official attempt at taking over the Kenai Pack. That didn't call for an investigation, it called for war.

  I didn't want war, and I also didn't want to give up a mystery that I was just starting to get to grips with. I couldn't hold off telling King forever - that wouldn't be fair to the brothers - but I could keep digging and maybe get him a definite name. At least then all-out war might be avoided. Maybe.

  Besides, who was better placed than me to look into this matter? None of King's werewolves could cross the boundaries to investigate which of the other three packs might have been responsible - but a part-wolf like me could. Really, I was doing him a favor by not telling him yet.

  "How are you going to get an audience with the other Pack Leaders?" asked Tanner, as we sipped coffee in the kitchen, a contrite-looking Hudson beside us. He and Tanner had had a frank conversation on our return and I couldn't help feeling that Tanner had taken out a little of his anger at Gray, and his fear for his brothers' safety, on the youngest of the Kenai heirs.

  "That's where you come in," I replied.

  "Us?" wondered Hudson. "We can't even leave Kenai land, how the hell are we supposed to get you a meet with another Pack Leader?"

  I was about to explain when the sound of footsteps on the stairs made us all turn and, moments later, Kenai Gray entered. He held up a hand when his two brothers sprang to their feet to help him.

  "I'm fine. I don't need help. Just breakfast."

  "Hudson." Tanner jerked his head in the direction of the range.

  "Don't see why I'm copping all the flack for this," muttered Hudson as he went to get more eggs and bacon.

  "Because Gray is still too weak," explained Tanner. "Once he's got his strength back, then I will kill him."

  "There's something to look forward to," said Gray, taking a seat and casting a look in my direction. "What's she doing here?"

  "She saved your life last night," I replied.

  Gray looked decently apologetic, though still sullen. I could forgive him for that easily enough now, knowing his story. Tanner then brought him up to speed with our morning's work and he began to look at me differently, albeit reluctantly.

  Perhaps it was perverse, but I found myself really caring what Gray thought of me, and that change of expression, to something approaching grudging admiration, mattered a great deal.

  "So, what now?" he asked.

  "We were about to learn," Tanner replied. "Miss Malone..."

  "I think you can call me Lana," I suggested. I had slept with two out of three of them - first name terms seemed the least I could offer.

  "Lana," Tanner corrected, "wants to go to talk to the other Pack Leaders."

  "Which they're bound to like," Hudson put in.

  "How?" asked Gray.

  "Apparently, with our help." Tanner turned back to me.

  "I don't need you there in body," I explained, knowing that they could not cross borders without either breaking wolf lore or drawing a great deal of attention, which I did not want to do. "I need something that says I'm on official Kenai business."

  A look of understanding passed across Tanner's face. He took a ring off of his finger and passed it to me. "The Kenai seal. That the sort of thing you had in mind?"

  I took the ring and smiled.

  Even with the Kenai seal to help, getting in to see the city's Pack Leaders took some time and some phone calls, but a few days later, I was heading west into Hokkai territory.

  Hokkai Jack was also known as One-Eyed Jack, and not because he liked card games. He bore a resemblance to the Norse god Odin that he seemed to have decided to lean into, growing a straggly black beard, shot with grey, and wearing the long dark coat and broad brimmed hat traditionally associated with the character. His Pack Lodge was less ostentatious than that of the Kenai, darker and more forbidding, as if the pack had deliberately set out to be the dark mirror of their wealthier neighbors.

  In the great hall, One-Eyed Jack sat on a large leather swivel chair, that had probably been made for a CEO and yet attained the attributes of a throne when Jack sat on it. He peered at me through his one green eye, then took the ring that I proffered. It had been enough to get me an audience, but would it be enough to get me some answers?

  "Tanner?" Hokkai Jack asked, the first word he had said since I entered. "They say he'll never be Pack Leader."

  "I don't care about werewolf politics," I said.

  "Unless they lead to assassination attempts."

  I decided not to beat about the bush.

  "You've got no reason to like Kenai King."

  In reply, Hokkai Jack reached for his eye patch and lifted it. I didn't flinch as he revealed the mangled remains of his right eye. A claw mark that started on his forehead and ran almost to his chin, scything through his cheek, marred that side of his face and had gouged an ugly cleft through his eye socket.

  "We were supposed to be at peace," he said, as he replaced the patch.

  "Like I said; no reason to like him."

  Jack shrugged. "That's been true for a long time, why would I start trying to kill him now?"

  "You said yourself; word is that Tanner will never be Pack Leader. Some call that an opportunity."

  Hokkai Jack nodded. "Yes, some might. But those who go about that opportunity with assassins are cowards. Are you calling me a coward, Miss Malone?" He leaned forward and I realized that this interview had taken an unfortunate turn.

  "No, Pack Leader."

  "When I face Kenai King," One-Eyed Jack's voice rasped with emotion, "it will be in a duel - one on one, face to face, all fair and in front of witnesses. My pack may benefit from gaining his territory, but that's not what I want from that bastard." Without warning, he lunged forward and grabbed me by the throat, dragging me close to his face. "I want his eye."

  Just when I thought he might kill me there and then, he let me go and I took a few faltering steps back. It takes a lot to rattle me, but that did it.

  Hokkai Jack stood, drawing an end to our meeting. "If you catch the one trying to kill him, you'd be doing me a favor - I want King for myself." He turned to go but then spun back, leveling a gnarled finger at me. "And don't think I don't know that Gray has been in my territory! You tell him that if I catch h
im, then, Kenai or not, King's son or not, I'll skin him alive."

  I had known that the wolf pack's all had their personal style that stemmed from their Pack Leader, but you had to enter the Pack Lodges to really appreciate how differentiated they were. Arctic Venus was like a different species to Hokkai Jack. She was currently the only female Pack Leader - werewolves have their own version of equality; if you can kill everyone else then you're in charge, regardless of gender. Based on her Pack Lodge, she had decided to accentuate the difference. It was not that the place was done out in pink lace and heart-shaped throw pillows, but there was something feminine in the elegant minimalism that characterized the room into which I was brought.

  Venus sat behind a curved glass desk in a chair swathed in white silk. The whole room was decked out in sharply contrasting black and white, and the furniture and ornamentation was fluid and lithe, seemed to ape the forms of nature in hard glass, marble and plastics. The only noticeable splash of color in the room was Venus herself. In body shape she was as fluid and minimalist as her room - slim, elegant and sharp featured - but the flowing dress she wore, which clung to her body and hooded her head, was a bright blood red.

  She watched my approach down the long room through narrow eyes in a starkly made-up face, perhaps trying to disguise the passage of years - contrary to appearances she was past fifty - or perhaps simply to maintain an image. There was something iconic about Venus, unlike her fellow Pack Leaders, she had assumed control of the Arctic Pack at a young age, barely fifteen, and had established a style and image that she had scrupulously upheld ever since. To keep power for that long, against treachery from within and attacks from without, took someone as hard as nails - that was Arctic Venus. I had been scared of Hokkai Jack when he grabbed me by the throat, but I was scared of Arctic Venus from the moment I walked into the room.

  "You've been to see One-Eyed Jack already," she said after I had showed her the ring. "Wednesday, I believe." I wasn't surprised that she knew.

  "And I'll be going to see MacKenzie Sean next."

  "Of course. Does King know that you are visiting us?"

  I wanted to say; I'll ask the questions, but how did you say that to someone like Venus?

  "Why wouldn't he?" I answered a question with a question.

  "It's no secret that King has little love for his sons. It stands to reason that any assassination attempt is going to make him suspicious and perhaps that would lead him to hiring a half-breed like yourself. Now, you're showing Tanner's ring around?"

  "I never said I was working for King."

  Venus made an airy gesture with her perfectly manicured hand. "Which would still suggest that King doesn't know you are here."

  I wasn't in the mood to be played with. If this had been one of the male Pack Leaders, I would have stood up for myself, but something about Venus's very femininity undermined my confidence. I had to get it back. "If you didn't want to see me then you certainly didn't have to, so either you want to play a game with me - in which case, I'd rather just leave, I have a busy day - or you want to talk to me, so can we get on with it?"

  "Why would I want to talk to you?"

  "Because you know something is going on in the Kenai family and you think that you can trick me into dropping something useful."

  Venus smiled thinly. "Ask your questions."

  My turn to play some games. "I don't have any questions."

  For the first time, I think I surprised Venus.

  "No?"

  I shrugged. "What can I ask that you can't deny? Did you hire the assassin who attempted to kill Kenai King, and who we now know for certain came from outside Kenai territory? If there's a subtle way of asking that, then I can't think what it is."

  As I spoke, I never let my eyes leave Venus's face, looking for reactions. But if my words rattled her, then she hid it well.

  "For certain?" she parroted back at me.

  "The Kenai heirs are no longer under suspicion."

  "King must be pleased." She paused, pursing her scarlet lips. "Or must he? I wonder if an excuse to have his sons killed would have been convenient. What do you think?"

  "I think you've got more reason to frame King's sons than he has." It was as good as an accusation, the sort of thing that had made Hokkai Jack pretty mad, but Venus barely reacted.

  "You know, of course, that King took a large chunk of my territory not long after I became Pack Leader?"

  I hadn't known that.

  "We became Pack Leaders of our respective packs at around the same time," Venus went on. "He was about fifteen years older than me, of course. And we had very different attitudes. I wanted to hold things together after my father's death, to show stability for the Arctic. King wanted to make a statement, which he made at the expense of my pack."

  "Long time to hold a grudge," I noted. Similar to Jack, the question would be; why wait this long for revenge?

  Venus laughed. "I don't hold a grudge for that. I don't hold grudges for anything. Vengeance is for the weak and stupid. I believe in the Arctic Pack, its stability and its endurance. If I took revenge for every petty incursion, then we would be in fights with every pack - fights we could not win. My job is to keep the Arctic secure. Let the others bicker amongst themselves, and we'll be there to pick up the pieces."

  Did that mean she would do it, or she wouldn't?

  I was left genuinely unsure.

  Chapter 11

  Getting an audience with the MacKenzie Pack Leader was even harder than the last two, though for different reasons. I couldn't just call someone to make an appointment, because the MacKenzie didn't use phones.

  The MacKenzie Pack were considered something of an anomaly amongst urban werewolf packs. Though most of the packs had their origins out in the country - back in the day, werewolves had thrived in the wide-open spaces of wilderness - when they moved into the towns and cities, they had their rough edges rubbed off.

  Big, ugly wolves who lived in caves, even when human, and seldom, if ever, wore clothes, suddenly moved into smart Park Avenue apartments, ate with a knife and fork and enjoyed a weekly game of squash with a man called Nigel. It was a pattern that had a lot in common with the process of immigrant assimilation - within a generation or so, everyone was wearing Nike and eating Big Macs. But there were always a few holdouts, even in the heart of the city. The MacKenzie might not live in forests and attack unwary travelers, but they retained as much of their roots as they could in the modern world.

  Even knowing this, when I entered the Great Hall at the center of the MacKenzie Pack Lodge, I was still taken aback by the presence of a large fire in the middle of the room, its smoke rising to a hole in the raftered roof, far above. Back in medieval times, when werewolves first came to the notice of humanity, they used to say that fire was the only difference between werewolves and actual wolves - normal wolves were scared of fire, as most animals are, but werewolves used it and were drawn to it, like humans.

  Beyond the fire, on a seat of carved wood, sat MacKenzie Sean, Pack Leader of the MacKenzie and the youngest of the Pack Leaders in the city. His hair was a mass of thick, unwashed, dark brown curls, and he wore a fur cloak, that hung off his rangy, muscular frame. As far as I could see - and I didn't look too closely - he was not wearing anything else, and I got the impression that he was only wearing the cloak now in deference to my presence. Similarly, the guards who flanked him wore only a tartan blanket, loosely wrapped about their bodies - the tartan a relic of the MacKenzie's Scottish origins.

  Sean held out a calloused hand and took Tanner's ring from me. He examined it a while then tossed it back.

  "Alright then; what?"

  "You've heard about the attempted assassination of Kenai King?" The MacKenzie were less interested in werewolf politics and news of other packs.

  Sean nodded. "Everyone knows it was one of his sons. Or all of his sons."

  "Unless everyone is wrong."

  "Then his sons will be the ones who benefit."

  "Unless
everyone blames them," I suggested.

  MacKenzie Sean shrugged, the fur cloak rising and falling about him. "That's a lot of unlesses. But if Kenai King had wanted a peaceful life, then he shouldn't have spent it robbing others of their land."

  "He's taken a fair bit off of the MacKenzie," I pointed out.

  Sean bared his teeth in a snarl. "In my uncle's day."

  "Still rankles, I would guess."

  "You're trying to pin this assassination nonsense on me?"

  "I'm just talking. You've no love for King or his sons, I'm guessing. They look down on the MacKenzie."

  "That's no reason to start a war."

  I nodded, deciding to try a different tack. "You're right. And a war the MacKenzie would have no hope of winning. If King and his sons were out of the picture, then it would be a straight shoot-out between Arctic and Hokkai for who takes their territory. That makes you the only unbiased person I can ask about who you think might have taken that first step in trying to kill King; Hokkai or Arctic."

  The rage flared across Sean's face. He probably knew that I was baiting him, but that didn't make him immune to it. The MacKenzie had an inferiority complex, tired of being seen as the runts of the litter simply because they lived more according to the old ways.

  "You think we couldn't take the Kenai in a fair fight?" His voice had a serrated edge, like the blade of a saw. "With or without King, with or without his worthless sons. Anytime. The MacKenzie may not be as large but we're stronger, tougher, made hard by adversity. We don't sit around in our fancy houses, on soft chairs, eating fancy food. We are true wolves. And in a fight, no matter the odds, you always bet on the true wolf."

  "Is that a fight you'd want to see?" I asked, taking advantage of his anger.

  "You bet it is. We'd tear them apart, and that's what they deserve. They've lorded it over us for too long. It's about time the MacKenzie took back what is rightfully ours, and then took what's rightfully theirs, for good measure. We're overdue for a war, and when it comes, you'll find the MacKenzie the best prepared of all the packs."